On the fourth day we just sat there, for a while, tired of all this inventing. We sat on a hill all day, staring into the afternoon, inventing nothing. I thought about inventing the secrets, but then the thunder stretched out its vast drumhead over the fields and the hot scythe of lightning cut its way through blackened clouds. And we got scared.

Then we invented the soft, quilted blankets instead. Just in time, you said. Under the blankets the thunder sounded no more frightening than the frogs we invented yesterday, everything was so safe and warm, and I was happy we invented the blankets. I invented them, anyway. I… I still don’t know about you. I have this feeling that on the fourth day, one of us did invent the secrets, only I didn’t know. 

August, 2010